


The Brotherhood of the Traveling Hoodie

by RonniRotten



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Anxiety, Depression, Gen, Insomnia, M/M, Self-Esteem Issues, Suggestive Themes, Swearing, Sympathetic Deceit Sanders, implied moceit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-10-24 16:31:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17707778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RonniRotten/pseuds/RonniRotten
Summary: After being accepted as part of the group and after a wardrobe upgrade, Virgil's been doing well. The only problem, someone keeps raiding his closet, or rather three someones who need that special brand of emo-best-friend-comfort no one else can provide. It's amazing what one old hoodie can do!





	1. Contact

It was early in the morning, or very late at night depending on your perspective. Logan sat in the kitchen area, staring at the kettle on the stove. Everything about his appearance screamed ‘hot mess’–his usually neatly combed back hair was sticking up at odd angles and falling in his face, he was wearing ninja turtle pajama pants and a black and gray plaid hoodie. His eyes were heavy and exhausted, but sleep, the necessary mystery, had been evading him all night. He had tried everything, for hours, with no success. His last ditch attempt, chamomile tea, was only a few minutes away.

“Aren’t you the one who preaches about healthy sleep schedules?” Virgil jeered, appearing in the doorway. Logan sighed and nodded. He wouldn’t deny that true statement, he would rather be a hypocrite than a liar, especially around the most anxious of them all.

“Good morning Virgil.” he yawned and rubbed his eyes with the sleeve of a certain old hoodie he borrowed, “I didn’t expect you to be awake at this hour.” It was 4 in the morning, far too late for him and too late for Virge to be in the kitchen to chat.

“I’m usually not. I had to pee.” he shrugged, “But you, you are another story. You okay?” he asked, cocking his head to the side so that his bangs fell out of his face.

“I’m having some trouble falling asleep, otherwise I am well.” Logan shifted in his seat, listening for any sign that his water was boiling. Nothing. Of course not.

“So chamomile tea?” Virgil asked, tilting his head toward the stove.

“Indeed. I’ve tried everything else that comes to mind–meditation, hypnosis, asmr, a warm soak. Nothing thus far has helped.”

“Have you tried cuddling a stuffed animal to simulate human contact?”

“A stuffed animal? Virgil, I am ashamed to admit that a stuffed toy alone has never worked, though it is therapeutic. That and it is dangerous for anyone to disturb Patton while he is unconscious.” Logan grumbled.

“But it was safe to come to my room.” Virgil commented, nodding to the stolen jacket. Logan blushed out of embarrassment, the tips of his ears turning pink.

“I did not enter your room without permission. You left this on the staircase during the last video.” he said, like a liar.

“You mean the one from September of last year?” Virgil snorted, knowing damn well that Logan was lying to him. But he wouldn’t directly call him out on it, why not have a little fun (affectionately) tormenting his friend? He did steal the one hoodie Virgil hadn’t worn _or_ washed since last September! It was gross enough to warrant some teasing.

“No, actually it was there after the phases video. I thought perhaps in your flurry of costume changes, you accidentally left it there. In any case, it's been a great deal of help in regards to sleeping.”

“And yet you didn’t think to return it or maybe just mention it? I might’ve been looking for it.” he asked with a dash of teasing, “Did you even wash it? That thing reeks!”

“Virgil this conversation is not helping my current dilemma. Perhaps we could continue this debate another time.” Logan groaned and flopped over the table with a thud. Like he would admit to needing the familiar scent to achieve rest–that being enveloped in the fabric was the closest thing to a hug he was willing to ask for–that he needed a hug at all! He needed to get some sleep, badly. Virgil, a side with more sleep issues than a Remy-less Thomas, could see right through him, it wasn’t hard. He had a bright idea.

Virgil strolled over to the stove and turned off the burner. That soft click made Logan leap from his seat and gawk at the all too serious side.

“My tea!” he whined like a cranky child, “Virgil, that was for my tea!”

“You don’t need it, L.” Virgil said, stuffing his hands in his pockets, “I have a faster solution, if you’re interested.”

“I have no choice now. What is your solution?”

“I'll fill in for the teddy bear. You're probably so touch starved you need contact to sleep. The tea wouldn't help.”

“How can you be so certain that's the issue?” Logan huffed. He didn't want to be touched or shown love, that stuff elicited feelings, and he would be ruined if he were caught with emotions! Virgil stepped forward and gently placed a hand on his cheek, knowing better. The result was instantaneous–Logan leaned into the touch involuntarily and his eyelids drooped.

“This and my dirty hoodie are all the proof I need. I’m only curious why you went for that instead of Patton’s cardigan or Roman’s sash.” he pulled his hand away and chuckled. Those two were cuddlier than a litter of puppies!

“Those two bring in a lot of sunshine, and bright lights are not apt for my situation. You, however, are my most trusted friend, and despite your role, you are the most calming to be around when you aren’t working. It’s only natural for humans to seek out favored familiar contact, it should not come as a surprise for a personification to experience similar urges.” Logan rambled, inadvertently flattering Virgil. ‘Most trusted friend?’ Logan thought that highly of him? Clearly if he was trying to replicate Virgil’s presence in order to fall asleep comfortably.

“C'mon, let's get some rest.” he smiled softly and headed for the doorway. Logan reluctantly followed, giving in.

Once in Logan's room, Virge stopped and waited. He was not going to climb in Logan's bed without permission. Logan brushed past him and crawled in under the covers.

“I can't believe I'm doing this.” he sighed, “Come on, let's get this over with.” Virgil climbed in behind Logan and pulled him close so his head was on his chest. Logan cuddled closer, wrapping his arms around Virge and yawning.

“Close your eyes,” Virgil said softly and pulled Logan's glasses from his face, “Close them and breathe slowly.” Logan heeded his advice and let himself relax, breathing in his company.

“Hey, don't write yourself off yet. It's only in your head you feel left out, or looked down on.” Virgil sang softly. So it wasn't a lullaby, but he only knew so many songs by heart. Logan was too tired to question it. So he continued, stroking Logan's hair to guide him into an even more relaxed state:

“Just try your best. Try everything you can. And don't you worry what they tell themselves when you're away.” Logan's breathing became deeper, just bordering on sleep.

“It just takes some time, little boy you're in the middle of the ride. Everything, everything will be just fine. Everything, everything will be alright.” he hummed. Perhaps it was as simple as a good hug, or maybe it was his deep, gentle voice, either way, Logan was snoring softly.

“Sweet dreams, L.” Virge mused before yawning and drifting off himself. There was no simulating a good hug. This wouldn’t be too hard to explain in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _platonic cuddles are everything and you cannot change my mind_


	2. Courage

It was such a bad idea to stop by for a visit. Virgil knew what this room did to him, but he had to check on his best friend. Patton was just a little bit off that morning, staring at his coffee on the table until it got cold. Sure, when Virgil made his presence known, the dad side was quick to smile and greet him as if everything was fine. That red flag set off the alarms in the back of Virgil's mind. He had to risk a bit more anxiety than he could handle.

“Hey, Patt, you in here?” Virge called and knocked on the door. Patton didn't answer. Maybe he was just napping. Maybe wasn't good enough of an answer. With a trembling hand, Virgil cautiously opened the door and stepped into the den of nostalgia.

But it was different. The clutter, the memories, were unorganized and littering the floor. The air was heavy and the gold glow that usually filled the room was gone, only to be replaced by a thin fog. At the far end of the room, Patton sat on his bed, staring at the wall, wearing Virgil's old hoodie.

“Patton?” Virge gasped, a slight echo tainting his voice. Patton blinked and glanced at him. His usual smile was gone.

“Virgil? When did you get here? Were we supposed to be filming today?” Patton asked without an ounce of cheer.

“No. No, I was just checking in. You seemed down.”

“Well yeah, you were right about that, but it's no big deal.” Patton chuckled, though it didn't resonate in his words.

“Morality, don't lie to me.” Virgil scoffed, the echo becoming more pronounced. He approached the bed, delving deeper into his anxiety attack. Patton winced. Oh no.

“I'm not lying. I don't see it as a big deal. I get sad sometimes, so I do what I can to feel better. It's the same old song and dance.”

“Do you always wear my old hoodie when you're trying to feel better?” Virgil pointed out, echoing on each word.

“It's comfy.” Patton sighed, “I know I should've asked first, and I will in the future, but please, let me borrow it.”

“I'm not mad.” Virgil shrugged, sounding far more demonic than ever. He sat down next to Patton and twisted his hoodie strings around his fingers.

“You're not?”

“No. I'm worried. Why that hoodie when you have your own, with cat ears?”

“Well,” Patton sighed and shifted uncomfortably, “it's the best reminder I have of you.”

“Me?”

“Yeah.” Patton winced, preparing for the worst. Virge only placed a warm hand on his shoulder. That was all Patton needed to continue.

“You were alone for so long. You could manage to hold on for so long despite being disliked, and then you left, and we all learned how much we need you. You're so strong. I thought if I thought of you, I could be that strong, just for a little while.”

“You say that as if you're not. Patt, you're strong–you keep dealing with this on your own and you still make everyone feel loved. You can't tell me you don't do that.”

“I have help. But he hasn't shown up yet. Maybe he realized I'm not worth it.”

“Not. Worth. It?”

“Sure I try to be a good dad, but you know that the others don't take me seriously. If I'm anything other than chipper, I'll lose the little respect I have.”

“Patton, what the heck?! I have nothing but respect for you! The others would still respect you and care for you even like this!” Virgil snapped. The echoing legion of voices that came out of his mouth shook the room. It made tears well in Patton's eyes.

“I'm sorry for upsetting you Virgil, but that's the truth. It's what I believe. They don't see me as an equal, an adult.”

“How long?” Virge huffed before taking a calming breath, “How long have you felt this way?”

“Close to three years. I know that sounds bad, that I sound like an idiot.”

“Yeah, you do. You're allowed to feel however you do, but why haven't you talked to anyone?” Virgil huffed. Best friends don't keep secrets like that from their friends. How much damage could have been prevented? He was not okay, and what did Virgil do to help? Nothing!

“I talked to someone, he kinda shows up when I need him to, but he's not here yet.”

“Someone else? We’re a dynamic duo, like you said! You're always there for me, let me be there for you!”

“You worry enough as it is. I would feel worse dumping this on you.”

“Dumping this on—?! Then who do you go to if you don't think I can handle it!?”

“That wouldn't be me.” Deceit answered as he appeared on the bed next to Patton. The snake sat with his legs crossed condescendingly and smiled darkly at Virgil.

“Enjoying the light? I hope not.”

“What do you think you're doing here!?”

“Touchy!”

“Hey, Coach. Be nice.” Patton spoke up. He sounded so worn out. Virge growled under his breath and tried to calm down. He loathed the liar, but he was going to make damn sure he didn't upset Patton further.

“I suppose if I must.” Deceit sighed, “And you want me to be honest as well?”

“Yeah, at least when it doesn't matter.”

“You are so lucky that this room makes it harder to lie, dearest.”

“What are you talking about? Patt, what the heck is going on here?!” Virgil boomed, and then immediately covered his mouth. That tempest tongue was just not helping.

“I'm morality, morals and values, and they reflect on us more strongly here, you and the others don't really notice it.” Patton explained, “He sure does, since he's my dark side doppelganger darling.”

“Excellent alliteration, I couldn't have said it better, turtledove. Not that Legion would believe me.”

“Legion!?” Virgil snapped, unleashing the tempest that was his voice. That only made the snake grin. Way to prove his point.

“Guys!” Patton whined and flopped onto his stomach.

“Sorry Patton-cake. It's hard to ignore our history.” Deceit chuckled, “He had a habit of picking my words to pieces.”

“You twisted the truth around so much it made me panic. I had to.”

“How true, but yet, here I am, providing a necessary service for my other half.” Deceit cooed, “And nothing in this world is more important than his stability.”

“While I don't disagree with you, I can't believe you actually care.”

“Who wouldn't care about Patton-cake!?” Deceit scoffed, utterly insulted, “I care enough to fetch that rag for him, risking exposure to your brand of corruption.”

“Rag?”

“Be nice!” Patton groaned, “Please!”

“Perhaps you should step out, Virgil.” Deceit chuckled. Virge caught Patt's gaze and pouted. It was plain as day, Patton wanted him to leave. That tempest tongue was making things worse for both of them. But leaving Patton, vulnerable sweet Patt, in Deceit's hands? He was uncomfortable with it.

“Alright. I'll be back to check in on you in about an hour.” Virgil relented and stood, “And zip that hoodie up, it's like a warm hug that way.”

“Virge, wait!” Patton begged, jumping to his feet. He slammed into Virgil's back and hugged him from behind, crying into his back. Deceit watched with an amused smirk.

“Patt?” Virge questioned and twisted around in the embrace to hug Patton back.

“Thanks for being there for me, buddy. I don't care if you're rough around the edges, you're my best friend and I love you so much!”

“You're my best friend too, Pops. I only want you to feel better, so you have to let me go now.” Virge hummed. He placed a gentle kiss to Patt's forehead and carefully pried him off.

“I'll be back in an hour or so. And you can keep the hoodie for a while, just give it back when you're done.” he said. Patton nodded, drying his eyes, and watched him sink out.

“It is truly amazing what a simple hoodie can do.” Deceit mused, “Especially one that became a thing of comfort for Anxiety.”

“You sound like you know first hand.”

“I do. Now, come sit and rest. You deserve it after working so hard, you wise wonderful being. You can get through this.” Deceit answered and patted the bed. Patton obeyed and zipped up the hoodie, allowing the comfort to wash over him. It was exactly like a hug, the firm warm hugs he knew Virgil mastered.


	3. Everything

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **  
> _This chapter is connected to the last one_  
>  **

_ It was about a year ago… _

Virgil was cold. Of course he was cold! That’s what happens when you decide to air-dry your hoodie and find the went missing. He highly doubted that any of the light sides, as Roman so conceitedly dubbed the main three, stole it. They were nice enough to stop by and welcome him into their group, little by little, it made no sense for any of them to steal from him (except maybe Roman if he thought about it—he was eyeing that Nightmare Before Christmas poster greedily.) But that didn’t stop him from worrying that his fears were reality. He had to investigate!

The first one on his list was Logan. Why? Because he might want to get revenge on someone for hoarding his Alice in Wonderland puzzle book. Was that likely? No, which meant this encounter should have been painless. That was wishful thinking.

Virgil entered the common area to find Logan sitting on the couch with his kindle in hand. The nerd was reading, shocking. It was probably some journal article revolving around alternative fuel options or something.

He crept up behind Logan, and peeked over his shoulder undetected. The man was not reading a journal article. It was a script for  _ Cabaret _ . Virgil accidentally snorted–the side who hated musicals was reading one of the campiest, taboo-discussing musicals of last century!

“Oh, Virgil,” Logan said with the tiniest of jumps, “I did not notice you there. Do you need something?” He twisted in his seat and looked at the anxious side. Virgil’s smile fell.

“Have you seen my hoodie?” he asked, knowing the best way to deal with Logan was to be direct, no beating around the bush, no idioms, and no metaphors.

“Did you leave it in the washer perchance?”

“No, I hang it out to dry.”

“I have not seen it. Perhaps you should search your room again, it was quite messy the last time I was there, so it could have easily gotten lost.”

“Thanks.” Virgil said sarcastically and sank out. Logan was too calm, he was being completely honest. It was time to deal with suspect number 2, and Virgil absolutely hated it.

The imagination was probably the only place in Thomas' mind where he would never be welcome, not that Virgil disagreed with that sentiment, he was the embodiment of fear and he could cause a lot of problems. But this time he was willing to venture into that area. It was where he would find Roman.

Imagine his surprise when he rose up in a recreation of his own room with an imaginary version of himself listening to Roman, who was too quiet to hear. He was probably just testing out a few more insults.

“What the hell, Princey!?” he shouted, scaring Roman out of his skin. With a manly shriek, the scene vanished into a gray void. Virge crossed his arms and tapped his foot, waiting for an explanation.

“By the cloak of Jason! What are _ you _ doing here?!” Roman spat clutching his heart. He seemed to have a second sash running across his face under his skin. Was he embarrassed? He should have been.

“I can't find my hoodie. Decided it was a worthy consolation prize since you can't have my poster?”

“No! I cannot believe you would accuse me of petty theft! Over what? Your dirty old shirt! I have never been so insulted I my life, Edgar Allan Woe!” Roman snapped. His hand was on his sword in an instant.

Virgil ducked out. Roman had never been so angry with him before, probably because he questioned his integrity. There was no way he stole it with that reaction. The least likely side had to be the culprit, and Virge had no idea how to approach him.

“Hey kiddo!” Patton greeted as soon as Virgil appeared on the kitchen counter. He was just finishing up with the dishes. Virge shifted uncomfortably, still trying to find the words. 

“Hey Pops.”

“Need something Virge?”

“I uh, well, you see, I'm missing my hoodie and I was wondering if you—”

“The black one?”

“Yeah.”

“I'd be lying if I said I know where it is. Did you ask the others?”

“Princey and the nerd? Yeah.”

“What about those other three?” Patton asked as he dried his hands, “Maybe one of them knows. Do you want me to help you find them?” He smiled innocently and tilted his head. Virge had to believe him, he was the nicest person to him. And he had a point, the shadows might have a few reasons to rob him.

“I'll go ask them.” Virgil grunted and started to sink out.

“Say hi to Deceit for me, kiddo! And good luck!” Patton called after him. Oh he certainly would have plenty to say to his old ‘friend!’

Deceit sat on the ground in a void-like room with his knees pulled to his chest. He held a sweatshirt to his chest and shuddered, fighting back yet another sob. His efforts were all in vain and he could not cope with the loss.

Anxiety was the only one who can truly cared.  They didn't always get along, but they were best friends for ages. And now? Well he had to get used to isolation or the other shadowy sides. The former was more appealing. Oh no, he was crying.

“You wanna give that back, Sad-liar Slytherin?” Virge snarled when he appeared, standing menacingly over Deceit.

“Anxiety, what a pleasant surprise!” he scoffed through his tears, “Come to shine that new light in a shadow's life? How generous.”

“Give it back.”

“No. It's all I have left of an old friend who could reign my compulsions in.”

“You tricked me into thinking that Patton and Logan hated me! You made me worry every time I was summoned that I would be ridiculed for existing! What kind of friend does that?”

“The kind who can turn to  _ anyone _ at their lowest!” he hissed, “Now why don’t you go back to your new  _ friends _ !”

“I want my hoodie, or did you not hear me.” Virgil snarled impatiently. Deceit took one last look at the piece of clothing in his hands before gracelessly flinging it into Virgil’s face.

“Take the last of you and get out of my domain.”

“I plan to.” Virgil said as he started to sink out, then quickly added, “Patton says hi.” And then he was gone.

Deceit dried his eyes and stared off into the distance. Patton thought about him in a good enough way to want to say hi? Perhaps Virgil wasn't the only one he had.

* * *

 

“Aw, that's so sad, Ethan” Patton whimpered as he cuddled closer to his snake, “At least something good came out of it.”

“And what might that be, my dear?”

“Us.”

“You're mistaken.” Deceit chuckled, “That is something great. To think someone as wise, caring, and free-spirited as you would see the good in me and believe I'm worthy of your time. That's miraculous.”

“We really owe Virge big time.” Patton yawned.

“If only he would accept my gratitude and apology.”

“Well I guess we'll have to do it together when I'm out of this funk.”

“You are too kind, darling, now rest.” Ethan hummed and pulled the covers over their shoulders. He had Patton, and hopefully he could rekindle his friendship with the side who was his greatest guide.

  
  
  



	4. Support

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hey look romance, oops.

“ _ No one hates you. _ ”

Virgil was wrong about that, Roman knew it. Who could hate him, not just get annoyed from time to time? Why the prince himself, of course! He was on the most difficult quest of his life, one that would take a lifetime to achieve—loving himself, and he was failing.

“No! No! No!” Roman shouted and tossed his notebook against the wall, “What kind of idiot would want to watch a video of us as coffee mugs?! The marketability of it would be wonderful but there are other ways to do that! You're absolutely washed up, Roman! A failure and a waste!” He had no new ideas for another video—he and Patton weren't exactly kidding when they said it would be six months before the next video. Well, maybe Patton was.

Roman curled up on his lavish bed on top of the sheets and let out a miserable groan. How could he let Thomas down like this? He was no good if he couldn't do the main thing he was supposed to! He tried and tried, never succeeding. He thought with less pressure from Logan he would be able to do better. He was wrong.

“You're worthless, Roman, a joke and a jerk. No one actually likes you, they tolerate your nonsense and rude remarks. Can't you find a better way to hide the pain than an ego that's larger than Russia and an attitude nastier than the villains you fight? Of course not! That would be creative—the one thing you can't be!” he mumbled to himself against the red quilt. He didn't bother to stop the tears welling in his eyes from spilling over. So much for royal dignity—he didn't even have his usual outfit on, just some Mickey Mouse pajama pants, a red tee, and Virgil's old hoodie. The last one was possibly the only thing that provided comfort. He would be sure to keep his tears away from it.

“Hey Ro, got a sec?” Virgil called from outside his door. He would die of embarrassment if Virge saw him in such a pathetic state, and with stolen property.

“No–Now isn't a good time!” he called back, his voice weighted down by his silent sobs.

“Are you alright?”

“Absolutely peachy!” he said far too bitterly. That was the moment he wished he had a last will and testament.

Virgil entered cautiously. The elegant, palace-like room was covered in posters, the desk in the corner was organized chaos, and the large wardrobe was closed like the curtains over two large windows. That wasn't out of the ordinary, but the defeated figure curled up on the bed was. He hurried to Roman and crouched by the bed, worry written on his face.

“Roman, what's wrong?” Virgil asked gently and thumbed away his tears.

“I'm fine. I just watched  _ the Lion King _ and got emotional.”

“You aren't fooling me with that, Princey. I heard everything.”

“Everything?”

“Yeah, like I said, I'm listening. You want to talk about it?”

“What's there to say? I'm utter garbage, I can't do anything right, and I'm an arrogant piece of—”

“Stop. That's exactly what you need to talk about. What has you feeling this way?”

“Why should I tell you? You aren't Mr. Sunshine Self-love, Basket Case!”

“No, I'm not. He would fight you for talking bad about yourself, and I know first-hand he's not some pushover. But isn't it better to have someone who's got the same problem here to help?” Virge mused, ignoring the unabashed insult. Green Day reference aside that hurt.

“The emo hates himself! Shocking!”

“I used to. Back when I was the outcast. When did you nab that, by the way?” Virge asked calmly, which was a challenge for him, and tugged on Roman's sleeve. Why was everyone stealing his hoodie!? Roman expected him to be pissed.

“I created this one myself. It's not yours.” he lied flawlessly.

“Yeah, sure, you even imagined the Crofter's stain on the left sleeve. Amazing attention to detail.” Virgil droned, impressed that someone came up with a halfway believable story.

“Don't patronize me.”

“I'm serious. That was a genuine compliment.” he retorted. He was truly impressed that Roman could think of something so simple and believable on the fly.

“Why are you being so nice to me?”

“Because you're one of us. Because I care about you. Because you deserve to feel loved. I can go on.”

“But, I insult everyone! I insulted you so much to the point where you utterly loathed yourself. I'm still insulting you! That doesn't deserve love!”

“Being a flawed individual who recognizes his mistakes and tries to fix them isn't deserving of love? Wow then we all have a serious problem, don’t we?” Virgil rolled his eyes.

“Shut up and go away if you're only going to mock me!”

“I'm not mocking you. The dashing prince who has always come riding in with dawn in his wake, is valiantly righting his wrongs and cares for the guy who antagonized him and the other two relentlessly until like a year ago. C'mon dude, mocking you would be like calling you ‘Prince Underarm-stink’ or pointing out your failures.”

“Poetic. Maybe you should be Creativity. I can disappear.” Roman scoffed bitterly. Virgil got up and sat next to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. This would not do! Time to swallow his pride.

“You're amazing, talented, and worthy of love. You have charisma, a knack for nicknames, and one of the cutest laughs in the world. You deserve to love yourself and I am here if you need me, it's not easy to do it, but don't you  _ like _ challenges?”

“Of course! Getting this close to you, despite our spats has been the most rewarding thing.” Roman replied, not overlooking the comment on his laughter.

“Right…” Virgil blushed furiously, determined to keep going on this path, “Well if you can like a self-depreciating, moody, bitter emo, who's always undermined you, what makes it so hard to love the dashing prince with a heart of gold, and a great imagination?”

“I don't believe I am that person. I am dramatic, snarky, rude, and an attention hog.”

“Yeah, you are all of those things, but you're also everything I said. It's almost like you're a complex person with flaws.” Virgil grunted as he adjusted his position.

“How dare you!” the prince gasped in mock horror, though it sounded like he was truly insulted.

“What agree with you _ and _ disagree with you at the same time?”

“Yes! If you’re going to be comfort me on my bed, the least you can do is cuddle!”

“You are so needy.” Virge chuckled and coaxed Roman to rest his head on his lap, “Are pets enough for now?”

“Not really, but I don’t want to make you uncomfortable—more uncomfortable.”

“What else do you want?” Virge asked calmly, forming a brilliant plan. A plan that would probably give him an anxiety attack if things worked out wrong.

“I wanna be the little spoon and I want a kiss. Of course if that's too much I understand–wants aren't always realistic and I tend to go overboard wi—.”

“I'll make you a deal,” Virge cut him off, “if you can name three things you like about yourself, I'll give you a kiss. Every three things, one kiss.”

“You're awfully calm about this situation.” Roman leered up at him suspiciously.

“Not really. It’s just, whatever it takes to make you feel better and keep Thomas safe.” Virge replied with a slight hitch in his voice. He was uncertain but it was all for a good cause.

“Okay. I'm good at singing and I love to sing so–” he trailed off, not actually believing a word of it.

“That's one.”

“Uh—I’m handsome.”

“Duly noted. There's two.”

“I um—this is so hard!” Roman whined.

“One more, and you get what you want.”

“I have a nice butt.”

“Shallow, but it counts.” Virge sighed. He shifted and bent over, planting a quick kiss to his forehead.

“That's not where I had in mind!” Roman sighed.

“You never specified. Three more and maybe you'll get lucky.” Virgil teased. This would work.

“Ugh! Fine! I know all the lyrics to every Disney song. I am witty. I know my own faults.”

“That last one doesn't count if you aren't actively trying to deal with them.”

“What do you think I'm doing now!? I know exactly what you're doing, Sk8r boi!”

“Do you now?” Virge jeered. Roman fumed. He was not in the mood for their usual banter. He was so close to tasting those lips, so close he could pretend Virgil was interested in him as more than a friend after everything. He was not about to let things progress without making it clear that it meant more to him.

“You're trying to get me to make me feel better by playing off my burning desire for you!”

“Burning desire?” Virge choked out. He was not prepared for that.

“Yes! Burning desire so scorching I resorted to petty theft and daydreams to get my fix!” Roman snapped.

“So that really is my hoodie?” Virgil coughed, “It's okay, I have your old sash next to my pillow, so it's even.”

“You stole my sash?”

“Yeah, not because I’m a malicious thief bent on ruining your wardrobe, I mean it’s for the same reason you stole my hoodie.” Virgil rubbed his neck sheepishly. He said too much and the word vomit kept coming out.

“Oh? And you know what I do in this jacket? I didn't know were into that!” Roman teased, making Virge turn pink.

“You do what now!?” he snapped.

“Sleep in it and breathe in your scent while I imagine you cuddling me. I imagine you have romantic feelings for me in return.”

“You don't—you don't have to imagine that last part.”

“I do. Unless you can prove it, I won't believe you.”

“In that case,” Vigil hummed and kissed his cheek, “You can name four things this time.”

“I built a mind palace that no one uses but I'm proud of it. I slayed a dragon witch. I'm fluent in Spanish.” he droned, pausing to think of a fourth one.

“I know you can come up with one more. Unless you don't want proof.” Virgil goaded with an eager twinkle in his eyes and a half-smile on his lips. Just one glance was more than enough proof for Roman, but he certainly wanted to finish what he started.

“I made a cynical, angsty stormcloud fall for me despite being a complete prick to him for so long.”

“Not gonna argue that.” Virge mused and pulled the sad prince so he was seated on his lap. He ran a tender hand down Roman's cheek building the tension needed for the right pay off. Roman was all about that build-up.

“No one hates you, Ro, except you. I'm going to make sure that changes, because I love you. Don't make me say that again.” he said softly, leaning ever closer. Roman's eyes fluttered shut, anticipation gnawing at his being. The molasses slow motions were torture, Virgil's breath tickled his skin. He was so gentle, so cautious, Roman could hardly handle it.

And then with a final, soft gasp, Virge's lips melded with his in the most sickeningly sweet way, like a prince waking his true love from a cursed slumber. It was heartfelt, heart warming, and made his heart race. A long dormant feeling awoke in the prince, a giddy warmth that had been locked away in a tower for far too long. Hope. Hope that he could learn to love himself–if Virgil of all people loved him, he could too.

“Don’t go.” Roman whispered when Virgil tried to break away, their lips brushing as softly as he spoke. Virgil rested his forehead on Roman’s and smiled.

“I’m right here. You’re stuck with an emo nightmare for now.”

“Stuck? Nightmare?”

“For the rest of the night.”

“Anxiety!” Roman gasped, feigning offense, “How utterly forward of you!”

“You said you wanted to cuddle.” Virge shrugged, wrapping his arms around the prince. Roman was going to retort but he didn’t get the chance.

Virgil pulled him down to lie next to him on the sheets. Roman’s little squawk was reward enough for the mini rant he was sure to give.

“You!—You—!” Roman snarled, making Virgil snicker.

“What? 'You miserable try hard?’ 'You ignoble edge-lord?’” he teased, half expecting something along those lines. 

“Puckish little punk!” Roman snapped, “At least let me take off the jacket first!”

“I see you're back to less hurtful nicknames.” he jeered. Roman wiggled out of the hoodie and tossed it aside with a huff.

“I’m trying to not use you as a punching bag! I'm trying not to need a punching bag! A little more genuine positivity!” he hissed and plopped down, pressing his back into Virgil's chest.

“Your hair smells nice. What did you put in it?”

“Way to change the subject!”

“I'm complimenting your taste in hair products.” Virgil shrugged, “It's really well maintained. Definitely worth running your fingers through it.”

“Thanks, I try.”

“So bitter. That's my department, principe azul.”

“I thought you didn't know Spanish.”

“Just the important phrases: hola, adiós, por favor, gracias, ¿Dónde es el váter? no hablo español, dame un beso.”

“What was that last one?”

“Dame un beso.”

“If you insist.” Roman chuckled and rolled over. He planted a kiss on Virgil's nose and smirked victoriously.

“Yeah, that's definitely the most important one.” Virge laughed and pulled Roman closer. He was far warmer than Roman expected. 

“Why are you so wonderful?”

“Funny, I was going to ask you the same thing.” Virgil purred and kissed his cheek, “And don’t you dare try and tell me you aren’t.” Roman snuggled closer and breathed in his scent. This was far better than some old jacket, real comfort, real support, the real Virgil-and he couldn’t ask for much more.


End file.
